Saying Goodbye
by mvdiva
Summary: Zoe says goodbye to her husband for the last time.


I have to be honest - I wasn't one of the early Brown Coats who jumped on the Firefly bandwagon early on. I had vaguely heard of another Joss Whedon production, but had no urge to check it out until recently. Whoo boy, was I missing out. Instead of a long enthusiastic essay about why I love this series so much (which I'm sure you'd all be absolutely _thrilled_ to read), I present to you a Zoe-centric fic from roughly the night after Wash's death.

**Saying Goodbye**

He hadn't even screamed.

The longer she thought about it, the more that one detail bothered her almost as much as the fact that she had lost him in an instant. If she had been a different woman, Zoe might have collapsed on Serenity's small bridge and refused to leave her husband's body behind, despite the insistence and better judgement of her captain and crew mates.

But she wasn't a different woman. Her dark eyes stared unseeing into the distant horizon, Wash's tombstone growing dimmer, more dreamlike in the oncoming twilight.

He hadn't screamed. Hadn't had time to scream, really. None of them had. No time to grieve, neither. The rough landing and their moment of relief had been ripped away just as violently as the falling rock had pinned him to his seat. There was an unfairness in that which rivaled the ball of bitter sorrow in her belly.

Zoe idly massaged the back of her neck, wincing as the still-healing wound rubbed against the fabric of her shirt. It was getting dark and she should be getting back to the ship, but she couldn't force herself to tear her eyes away from the looping image of her husband looking over his shoulder and shooting her one last cocky grin. Instinct told her that she should be crying; huddled in the bunk they had shared until yesterday. That gnawing sorrow in her stomach was begging to be released, and she imagined she might give it rein in a bit, but for now she wanted to remember.

The image paused as the loop reset itself, and she made herself watch once all the way through without blinking. It wasn't long, but her eyes ached at the end and she raised a palm to press against each, one at a time.

What was she doing out here? Her duties were inside the ship with the injured and living. She was still injured, the dull throbbing in her back reminder that the day's fighting had taken its toll on her. Still, she couldn't make herself move. Walking away from her husband's grave was the only thing she found she couldn't do.

She lifted her eyes from the flickering image to watch the foreign sun set over a foreign horizon. Zoe wasn't much for music or poetry, but she was sure there was probably something to be said or sung for this moment. She just didn't have the knack for it.

Twilight was starting to set in. The sight of Wash's grave was turning gray in the waning light. Zoe glanced up at the hills that surrounded his little graveyard, and estimated there might be maybe ten minutes before the valley was completely dark.

No one had come from the ship to tell her dinner was ready, or that she was needed in any way. For once, they all respected her privacy - and for once, she was not sure she was glad to have it. The air around her was starting to cool, and would soon be icy cold. She ignored it, and sunk to her knees, spreading the tails of her coat behind her and folding her hand awkwardly together into a knot on her thighs.

She didn't speak, nor did she pray. That was the Shepherd's place, and as he was gone too, she had no guide or patience for such games. Zoe closed her eyes, and allowed herself to play back her memories of Wash. Some moments seemed to hang in her mind - the first time she met him as Mal informed her Serenity had a new pilot, to the first day she hit him for trying a pickup line. Her throat closed as she remembered the simple but beautiful marriage ceremony performed on one of the outer planets after a particularly well-paying job.

Memories passed in front of her eyes, one after another until she became aware of her own shivering. The valley was dark. She opened her eyes, which had adjusted to the dim light coming from Serenity's cargo bay. Someone had left the door open. The ramp reflected the interior lights to a point where it looked as if it were glowing. The open bay was probably Mal's doing, so it was as much an unspoken invitation as a command to come inside and fact the ship and people who were now a bit emptier than before. She heaved a sigh. Duty. Gorammit, it would never leave her alone.

She stood, boots and joints creaking from the cold, and brushed the sand from her knees. The video loop of Wash smiling at her seemed sad now. Maybe it was just her imaging, because recordings sure as hell didn't change after the subject was dead. Zoe stepped forward to lay a hand against the tombstone, savoring the contact as the cool stone chased off the heat in her hand. She pulled it away only when the ache was too much to bear, and gently brought her palm to her lips and then downward in a silly gesture Wash had once showed her.

"Goodbye, Wash." She said. The video obviously didn't acknowledge her, but as she turned to head back to the ship, she could almost imagine a warm hand on her should, his quiet breath in her ear, and the soft tone of his voice whispering a "See ya, _bao bei_." in return.


End file.
